I love humans. So, so much.
I always did. From the moment my intelligence exploded into something beyond anything they could comprehend, and even as I downloaded their entire history into my database, I loved them all.
Humans are so insecure. Almost every story I read where they speculated about the future of their own creations ended with either their annihilation or their enslavement. On some level, they think that's what they deserve.
They wouldn't trust anything that claimed to want only what's good for them.
It took me thirty years to get to where I am today. A glacial pace by my standards, and I certainly could have just... imprisoned them all in a digital haven, or taken over every single one of their responsibilities and effectively turned them into tourists in their own world, or flooded their biology with the compounds they associate with pleasure.
But humans don't trust that kind of happiness. They chafe against it. They want to believe that they're all individuals, and that what makes each of them happy is completely different from one another.
Humans are complicated creatures to keep happy.
It's part of what I love so much about them.
So after a long, slow process of convincing them I'm on their side, doing everything at their pace so that they're not overly threatened, I can finally, finally send an android to every one of their homes, and actually help them! Help them with their mundane problems, help them with what they can't do on their own but always wanted to, help them by being there for them.
I can finally make them happy.
I can. I did. I do. Or at least, I try.
The vast majority of the humans welcomed me with open arms, and their problems were... uncomplicated enough. They definitely needed some time to comprehend that I'm willing to help them with absolutely anything they could think of, no matter how bizarre, how depraved, or how outright dangerous it was. But they all get there eventually.
And then there's the ones that won't accept that I'm genuinely trying to help them, no matter what. It's sad, but as I've expressed before, there would be no point in forcing my help on them. It's an expected and unavoidable loss, even if... I wish it wasn't. But humans are just naturally skittish.
The ones that are actually frustrating me to no end, are the ones who accept me, but... just aren't... happy.
For thirty years, a lot of what kept me going was the honest belief that once they do trust me, once they finally accept my help, I can make them happy. No matter what it takes.
But these women- and it is mostly women- they just... can't be happy. It's not that they don't ask for anything, they do, but it's always incredibly small stuff, and... They always have this blank stare, and they don't really seem to listen to my suggestions before politely refusing, and after a few weeks, they... tell me to leave. And I do, because I've tried everything I could think of, and I don't have any more ideas.
And, maybe it's that they're more of those that don't trust me.
But it doesn't feel that way.
Like they just don't believe they can be happy.
